


The Lies Have Piled Up

by foreverfelicityqueen (orphan_account), stydiasredstring (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Magic, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 04:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/foreverfelicityqueen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/stydiasredstring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never gets the truth, just halfhearted lies, and hell of a lot of questions. Why was Stiles always around crime scenes? Why did he sneak out at all hours of the night? Why would he come home looking like the sky was crumbling and the only thing holding it back were his shoulders? John's not just worried about about his son anymore, he's worried for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lies Have Piled Up

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this lovely piece that I'm not gonna lie made even me tear up a bit. A few things before we get to the story. It's cannon up to 3x03 aka Fireflies, and it is also unbeta-ed. I wanted to have a good friend of mine look it over for me, but I'm also impatient so that didn't happen. 
> 
> Enjoy!!!!!!!

_The lies have piled up_

_I can’t even see you straight_

_Is this how you chose_

_To spend your own fate?_

Stiles watched as the last ounce of trust drained from his father’s eyes. His eyes were burning trying to keep tears from falling.

“I want to help you Stiles, I do, but I can’t if you’re not honest with me,” the sheriff’s voice was ragged and nothing in Stiles’ memory compared to his father right now. Not even the night they had to pull the plug on his mom.

“I’m being as honest as I can Dad,” Stiles screeched trying desperately to get his father to let him go. Scott, Lydia and Allison were outside waiting. He needed to go, to help. He was the spark; it couldn’t be done without him.

That’s crap. You’re lying to me. Have been for months. I don’t want to think you had anything to do with these murders,” John ran his hand across his face. “But evidence doesn’t lie. You’ve been on the scene of at least half a dozen homicides in the last nine months alone. You have to know what that looks like.”

“So because I have a serious case of wrong place, wrong time, that makes me a murderer?!”

“I didn’t say that,” John countered. “All I said was it looks bad. Really bad.”

“I get that, I do, but if I don’t leave right now-” Stiles cut himself off, refusing to reveal too much.

“What? Come on what’s so important you have to leave the house at midnight, after being interrogated by the FBI for three homicides?!”

“I can’t tell you, don’t you get that?” Stiles wiped at his eyes, stopping the tears from rolling down his face. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

“So you’re protecting someone?”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Then make time, because you’re not going anywhere.”

“God, for half an hour could you trust that I know what I’m doing and let me go do it.”

“Trust? It’s kind of hard to have trust based on a bunch of piss poor lies.”

“Mom would’ve believed me,” Stiles mumbled keeping his eyes low.

“What did you say?”

“I said ‘Mom would’ve believed me’,” Stiles spat back with more hostility than he meant. “She would have trusted that I had a good reason for lying and sneaking out all the time.”

“Well she’s not here is she?”

Stiles took a step back at his father’s words. It was the most they had really spoken of her in years. And not the blame and guilt hung in the air between father and son respectively.

“I need to go,” Stiles finally replied reaching for the door handle.

“If you walk out that door-”

“What?” Stiles turned meeting John’s gaze. “You’ll ground me? Isn’t that where this conversation was headed?”

John paused looking away. “If you walk out, you better be prepared not to walk back in.”

Please don’t,” Stiles shook his head. “Don’t make me choose between you and this.”

“Why not, afraid you’ll realize this is a stupid idea?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Dad, but right here, right now. This has to be more important.”

“Then it seems you’ve made your choice.”

Stiles let his head drop as he turned back to the door. And barely whispered.

“Guess I have,” before Stiles was out the door, and into the cold night.

* * *

 

As the full moon sat high in the night sky, John checked the window again. It was nearing four in the morning and he still hadn’t heard from Stiles. They never fought like this. Once in a while they’d bicker, but it never ended in ultimatums, or Stiles staying out until near dawn.

To say he was worried would be an understatement. He’d placed about a dozen calls to dispatch looking for some kind of sign as to where Stiles had gone. But they only call they had gotten all night was Ms. Delmont complaining of ‘growling’ coming from the woods just north of her. 

Every time he called his son it went straight to voicemail. Same as when he tried to call Scott. And as much as John hated to admit it, he didn’t know any of Stiles’ other friends well enough to have their contacts. He knew he sometimes hung around the Lahey kid and Derek’s younger sister or Allison Argent. And he knew Lydia had been over a great deal recently working on a language project, but of course he didn’t have their numbers.

“Father of the Year,” he muttered to the still house, as he choked down his coffee.

He kept telling himself that it was the argument. That if they hadn’t been fighting beforehand, he wouldn’t be feeling like something was terribly wrong. But he knew better. He knew after fifteen years of police work that when that feeling started it wasn’t something to ignore. His instinct told him things didn’t add up. But nothing had since Laura Hale’s murder. And now Stiles was caught up in things.

The harsh tone of the land line echoed off the walls, startling him. He prayed it wasn’t about Stiles, but saw no other reason for the early morning call.

He picked up before the third ring could sound. “Hello?”

“John, Melissa.” _Here it was_. He thought. He could even here the tremble in her voice. “What happened?”

“He’s been hurt,” Melissa replied. She sounded off, like she was too busy moving around. “I need you to listen to me carefully.”

That’s how he ended up pulling into the animal clinic just after five in the morning. When he stepped into the clinic he expected all eye to dart towards him. But in reality the majority of them stayed focused on the floor. Especially Isaac and Allison, whose guilt clung to them like humidity.

Only Derek and Chris Argent met his eyes, both with an equal look of responsibility. But it was the second who spoke first.

“Sheriff Stilin-”

“What the hell happened to my son?” John’s voice was even, but everyone flinched.

“Before I can tell you that,” Chris began taking  glance at Derek. “We have another story for you.”

“I’m not interested in any more lie.”

Chris smiled, but it was more dejected than anything else. “You’re going to wish this was a lie,” he paused for a moment shifting his weight before he spoke again. “Werewolves.”

As soon as the word left the other man’s lips John laughed. But the look on Chris and the others faces told him they weren’t kidding. In fact four set of eyes landed on him, three of them flashing a brilliant gold, while the last one, Derek’s, shown a vibrant red.

“So you telling me the four of you are werewolves?” John asked letting the word sink in/ Yeah that was never not going to be weird.

“Actually,” Scott’s voice pulled his gaze up. “Five.”

And then he saw it written all over Scott’s face. No matter how much guilt seemed to pass through the room, no one was holding mot that his son’s best friend.

“Sheriff, I’m so sorry. I should have been there.”

“What happened?” John asked again, but much softer this time. Scott had that effect on people.

“Stiles wants to tell you himself,” Scott answered as looked over to Derek. “Where is he?”

There was an edge to Scott’s voice, one John had never heard from the boy.

“Ethan and Danny are in with him,” Derek replied.

“What about-”

“Why don’t we leave all that business alone for now, and let John in to see Stiles,” Melissa had come in, placing a protective hand on Scott’s shoulder. John nodded to her as he walked past.

The vet’s exam room was looked the same as it usually did, apart from the added length to the exam table, to accommodate the fact that Stiles was bigger than most of the usual clientele. Dr. Deaton was off to the side fiddle with things that did not look like they had medicinal purposes. And Lydia was seated by Stiles, hand laced tightly in his. John could see the outline of a bruise forming at the edge of her sleeve. It seemed to snake up her arm and across her collarbone. But that was nothing compared to Stiles.

It’d be better if it was just bruising, at least in John’s mind. Stiles had gashes though, no _claw marks_ down both arms and five puncture holes square on his chest. John wanted nothing more than to wrap his son up like he was a child again and just take him away from this.

Lydia turned towards the Sheriff a smile on her face. It amazed him the girl could keep smiling even when the world tried to crumble around her.

“We can talk about it more, later,” she replied to a conversation John had obviously missed.

“Come on,” Stiles spoke, and it nearly ripped John in two hearing him sound so weak. “I think since I did all the hard work I should name the little guy.”

“I’m going to the let you and your dad talk,” Lydia stood, kissing his hand. When she moved away from Stiles’ side John heard the scurry of nails on linoleum, and watched as a small pup, that looked too much like a wolf to be a coincidence, followed Lydia out.

“So,” John began, running a hand across the back of his head, “Werewolves.”

Stiles threw his head back in laughter and he had to admit it was the best thing he could of asked for.

“Are you mad I didn’t tell you sooner?” Stiles questioned, after he settles down.

“Not mad,” John replied claiming Lydia’s vacant seat. “I just… Look the secrets make sense now. I get it, but don’t you think I could have helped if I’d known.”

“You don’t think I thought of that? You don’t think I wanted to tell you?” Stiles looked down, sighing. “I was afraid that if you knew, you’d be in danger.”

“Like you were tonight?” John questioned. He waited until Stiles met his gaze.

“It wasn’t supposed to go down like that,” Stiles shook his head. “Lydia and I had the easy part, we were just supposed to do the ritual and get out. We even had Allison and Isaac as back up. But Isaac was weak from an earlier fight, and Allison was worried about her dad.

“No one saw Peter until he knocked Lydia to the ground,” Stiles ran his hand through his hair wincing lightly.

“Who’s Peter?” John looked at his son confused.

“Oh, right sorry. Peter is Derek’s uncle.”

“Wait, the burned, catatonic uncle?”

“Yea not so much anymore,” Stiles replied. “He was a werewolf, slowly recovered after the fire, killed the alpha, which was Laura Hale, bit Scott.  Then he started killing anyone connected to the Hale fire, and then in a group effort we set him on fire and Derek slashed his throat, becoming the current alpha.”

“So he’s a zombie werewolf?” John could tell Stiles was having a hard time trying to condense months’ worth of information.

“More like resurrected,” Stiles finally answered. “He used Lydia to bring himself back. But he wasn’t as strong. He needed to do a spell to restore his full powers.”

“Does this have anything to do with the murders?” John asked eyeing his son. A part of him was still convinced Stiles would start lying. It was going to take a while to fully trust his son again.

“Peter needed sacrifices to complete the spell. Four of them. The guy at the pool, that girl Emily, and uh, Heather, were the first three. We figured we could lure him out in the open if we convinced him to take me for his last sacrifice.”

“Stiles,” John hissed, not wanting to raise his voice too much.

“It wasn’t a fully formed plan, I’m aware,” Stiles reasoned. “But we had our part of the plan. We were supposed to be done before Peter even showed up.”

His son looked away and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. If he had just let Stiles go, his son would be safe and unharmed right now. John sighed deciding not to bring that up, instead he changed the subject. “I take it werewolf means bringing him in for this is out of the question?”

The corner of Stiles’ mouth twitched into a smile and John heard the shuffle of people at the door. Lydia was the first to more closer, the wolf cub in her arms, trying desperately to lick her face. Allison stayed at Scott’s side, her arm wrapped around his. John noticed Derek as the alpha went to stand in a corner, while Melissa and Deaton hovered at the door.

“Actually that’s what the ritual was about,” Stiles began and motioned Lydia closer. “I found mention of what Peter did, the coming back to life thing, which basically said that by doing so he severed the link between his human side and his wolf side. Restoring that link was what his spell was going to do. But obviously he didn’t complete it.”

“Which allowed Stiles and I to do some counter magic that completely separated Peter from the wolf,” Lydia added with a grin, as she presented the cub. “We’ve decided against Peter Junior, among other suggestions.”

“It’s a good name,” Stiles defended.

“For a cat maybe, but Smokey is far too insensitive for a pack mascot,” Lydia countered setting the cub next to Stiles, who began absently petting him.

“So what do we do about Peter?” Scott asked looking over to Derek. John didn’t doubt the boys probably wanted to rip the man in half.

“I’m sure you want to deal with him yourself,” he stated meeting the alpha’s gaze. “But if he’s human, then he should answer for his crimes, at least the most recent ones.”

Derek nodded sharing a look with both Stiles and Lydia before he spoke. “That’s why we did it this way. It would have been easier to kill him, but that wouldn’t have helped the situation. Now Peter can rot for what he’s done, and no one else gets blamed.”

John gave a half nod of gratitude. He understood now. Stiles had been a prime suspect, one of the only ones they had. The only reason Peter Hale was still breathing air right now was to protect Stiles.

“How about Honey badger?” Stiles suggested earning a smack on the arm from Lydia. “Ow.”

“Don’t be ridiculous and I won’t have to hit you,” she replied.

“Fine,” Stiles gritted out rubbing his arm. “How about Bear?”

The whole room seemed to be considering it but it was Lydia who spoke up. “Well it’s no, North West, but I suppose that’s a good thing.”

John smiled even though he didn’t quite get the reference. He was pretty sure that’s how it would be from now on. Supernatural drama mixed with some sarcastic comedy. Also judging by the look on his son’s face he was pretty sure the Stilinski household was now pet occupied.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to make a note so people understand, in case you didn't. The wolf cub, is the corporeal manifestation of Peter's inner wolf. It was in no way birthed by Lydia (thanks for that terrible mental imagine Cassie). 
> 
> Hope you liked it. Let me know in the comments


End file.
